Vengeance Is Sweet
by MochaCocaFan
Summary: I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up/ I got to fold 'cuz these hands are too shaky to hold...--Hinata can't take it any more, she can't ignore the palpable pain in the air. What lengths will she go to to rid the world of this wreck of a clan?--


Hinata tensed a little, looking at the items on her bed. As she packed each and every one away, she mentally ran through her plan and smiled just a _tad_ crazily, just _slightly_ insanely, just a _little_ freakishly murderously. Everything was perfect.

No longer could Hinata watch members of her _own family_ (though this endearing opinion wasn't shared by any others in the Main House, for they were too damn snobbish and narcissist and arrogant to realize that the Branch House was family, not the sick collection of torturers), her own flesh and blood, her most intimate friends, her incredibly thoughtful kin, her intimately close companions, suffer so. She had run out of patience and as the rage boiled in her blood, she had run out of the self-control and utter lack of conscience required to let this monstrosity go on.

To shrink a tale told by usage of processed tree organs or animal skin or even the simple, rhythmic human voice, she had _hit the roof_.

Sighing in that quietly idiosyncratic way of hers, she once more checked all of her valuables, Her only jewellery, a gold locket that her mother gave her as her dying breath was inhaled and the tiny, twitching light of life inside the gentle mother of two was snuffed out, destroyed by a ruthless clan and cruelty of fate. Her silken yukata, made of only the greatest finery. Hinata's mouth twitched and her whole, rather attractive, face twisted violently as if she had just tasted venom-flavoured antibiotics (_why_ must they taste so horrible? So reminiscent of rotting fish or rattlesnake poison or even freshly brewed black coffee (though coffee, as sickeningly bitter as it is, unlike bittersweet cranberry juice which soothes away all afflictions of the throat, would be preferable to those concoctions of chemicals with unpronounceable names and spellings that make Akeylah go "_What the __**HELL**__**?!**_")).

Hinata _hated_ that yukata. It reminded her of the musty, moth-scented tea parties that made her eyelids ache with absolute boredom, and of the absolute bastard that hardly could be called her _father_, of the contaminated blood running through her veins that made her feel so goddamned _dirty_, like a savage wild rabid animal covered in blood, blood that would wash off no matter how hard she scrubbed for bloody _hours_.

The blood of her _mother_ (and countless others, though with all of her selfishness she hardly bothered to care about those others).

Shaking her head to clear out the homicidal urges to shred that abomination known as Hyuuga Hiashi (and oh how she _wished_ she wasn't part of this wreckage of a family, this parody of a clan)- he would be gone and laid out in purple-white lavendar on the hardwood floor stained with invisible pain that permeated even the very _air_ in the buildings of the caricature of the Hyuugas- she began to arm herself.

It would be over soon.

* * *

The evening meal with the Hyuuga clan (could it even be called that? Was it even a clan?) was always, _always_, had an unpleasant atmosphere of tension. None of the elders wanted Hinata there, her father was disappointed with his weakling (at least in his foolish mind) of an eldest daughter, Hinata wanted to run and Hanabi had no idea what was going on.

Tonight was different.

When Hinata casually strolled in, practically jumping with almost _obscene_ joy- not normal joy, not _sane_ joy, but the joy one would expect in a suicide bomber who had finally procured the necessary explosives and plane- most gaped at her figure as she cheerfully stalked past.

Hinata Hyuuga, shy, stuttering, timid, introvert extraordinaire, was _smiling_?!

_What_ was going on?

Her posture now bore no similarities to that of but a singular night ago- before, her thin shoulders were hunched, her muscles clenched in anxious anticipation, her feet clumsy and unsure of herself, her hair hiding her face, her throat drier than Death valley, her lips cracked worse than the broken mirrors (because the elders were tighter than paper on the wall when it came to the hygiene of what they considered subhuman monsters) in the Branch House, her eyes terrified and gazing at the floor, taking every crack even as she gulped nervously.

Now, she stood with her back straight as an arrow, her legs taking powerful, assertive strides, her arms loose and her fists unclenched at her side, one hand on hip, one swinging to the rhythm of her walking, her lips stretched in a relaxed smile, no longer grimacing painfully, her face loose, her cheekbones polished and proudly showing, her hair freshly washed and shining, her feet steady and graceful as a cat in a glittering baby-pink tutu, her neck framed elegantly with a deep navy shirt and teal leggings. Her balance never quivered, her eyes never watered with the threat of hysterical weeping- now calm and peaceful, reflecting her cool serenity and utter confidence with what was going to come-, her steps never faltered, her hair never hid her face.

It was _on_.

The very second she strode into the dining-room, with all her snotty relatives laid out before her, she grinned wolfishly- exactly like a predator with its prey totally unaware of the horrors that were to follow, though she never for a second considered eating these pathetic weaklings (cannibalism is just _so_ out of fashion)- and announced the words that would begin the bloodiest massacre in a all of Konoha history- or _herstory_, considering it was a woman, and a beautiful one at that, that killed all of her relatives-, topping even the Uchiha murders (because it was only sixty dead, not four-hundred eighty-three, and none of them were so badly mutilated that it took literally _years_ before the exact cause of death was determined, and it took _twenty_ years before it was finally, _finally,_ concluded that Hyuuga Hiashi had been hit over the head with a sledgehammer (and where in the name of Kami-sama did she get a frickin' sledgehammer from?) over two hundred times and then burned in an oven and mangled with a pair of sewing scissors).

"Justice has arrived!"

* * *

Four days later, and much bloodshed and ending of suffering, three figures stood atop a hill. One was Uchiha Itachi, emotionless robot and prodigy of the century, another was Pein, five-bodied Rinnegan master and Leader-sama to all of his subordinates, and the third was Hyuuga Hinata, the newest Akatsuki member. The trio gazed out at the ruins of what was once the greatest- and cruellest- clan in all of shinobi history. Too bad they crossed the line of what could be tolerated in Hinata's view.

Payback was a bitch after all.

* * *

_**-Finesse-**_

_Yeah, I've always wondered when Hinata would snap (I mean come on, her family was utterly abusive and everyone has a snapping point), and when it became apparent that such a thing was not canon, I decided to play out the senario._

_Oh, and you can find a picture of Akatsuki-Hinata at h ttp/ph otobu cket.c om /image/akat suki hinata /mizumitsukimiko/Ak atsukiHinataShippuu den.jpg?o 5 (without the spaces)_


End file.
